Sometimes the World Needs a Little Old Fashioned
by warrior of the nile
Summary: Thanos is here. It's official. Tony so called it. Too bad he's too busy worrying about the fight to appreciate it. So when Wong tells him that there is a weapon that can help defeat him, Tony jumps at the chance. He barely blinks when he's told that it's 'a little low tech for him'. He steps through the portal and goes to retrieve it. Oh, if he had any idea just what he was in for.


"So you're saying he's after these stones the will let him control the six most basic properties of the universe?" Tony asks, just to make sure.

"Yes," Wong says.

"Ok," Tony says, "ok, yeah, great. And he already has two of them – Space and Power. And Earth has two more, so of course he's headed here next."

"Yes," Wong says again, nodding. His expression gives nothing away.

Tony nods. "Right." His eyes wander towards the ceiling as he lets that sink in. "What's his name again?" he asks. Not because he doesn't remember, but because he wants confirmation. Proof. Concrete evidence that he isn't crazy. That everything that has been in his head for the last six years has been real.

"Thanos," Bruce says, answering him then. He has been alternating between staring at Tony and avoiding his gaze ever since he got here. A vicious part of him thinks 'coward', but he pushes that down. Now is not the time.

Bruce. And isn't that the kicker. Bruce has come back. But not to Tony – not to his Science Bro. And not because he wants to. He's come back because he has to. Because a threat is coming. A threat Tony has been talking about for the last six years. No one believed him then. They accused him of many things – from trauma to ego. But no one had listened.

Well now they believe. Now that it is too late for them to do anything but scramble for their biggest fight yet. Of course Tony has his own defenses. He couldn't ignore the threat. He knew it was coming. He knew what he felt, up there, with even the nuke a weightless pressure on his back before he released it. He felt a power. Something he has never experienced before – powerful, intense and, for a split second, focused all on Tony.

So he knew. And he tried to prepare. It's just his luck that everything he tried seemed to turn out worse than before. Building more suits – they became his obsession until he lost himself in them. Ultron – the world was almost destroyed. Sokovia was. The Accords – the team was split and divided. The Council itself is up in arms after everything. Rhodey is just back on active duty with the help of Tony's prosthetics.

The world is not ready for this. He remembers what Fury once said – that the world needs a response team. Someone to fight the battles they could not. Ironic, now that they were needed again, they were scattered across the four winds. And of course it is up to Tony to bear the brunt of it. Again.

Typical. Absolutely typical.

"So what's the plan?" he asks because the wizards _have_ to have a plan. Right? Surely Tony cannot be the only one who knew about this. Magic sounds like bullshit to him, but if they have a Sorcerer Supreme then they must know something about this. Have _some_ kind of a plan. _Right_? But looking at the two men in front of him, with Bruce standing off to the side, he isn't so sure anymore. The look they share is anything but reassuring to Tony.

"Doctor Banner," Doctor Strange – and just what kind of doctor is he exactly – says, "You have had a long day today. Why don't you go lay down for a while."

"Um, yeah, sure. That would be great," Bruce says nervously, "I can go and let you guys," he waves a hand vaguely at them.

"Nothing personal," Strange says to reassure him.

"No, no. I'm use to not being wanted. It's fine. I should probably sleep anyways. I haven't yet and the Big Guy took a beating earlier." Bruce shifts restlessly on his feet. It is absolutely clear that he isn't comfortable right now.

Tony hates it. He _absolutely_ hates it when Bruce gets like this. So self-deprecating about everything. Not that Tony has any room to talk. It is practically second nature to him by now. Still that doesn't mean he likes hearing it from Bruce. He has to bite his tongue to keep from saying what he is thinking. Like 'I want you here.' And 'The Big Guy was hurt? Is he ok?' And 'Are you with me this time? Can I count on you again?' There isn't a point.

He knows _why_ Bruce did a runner. He understands that. It was another bad situation and that's what he does – run. In a fight or flight situation, flight is always best unless you want to deal with significant property damage. But that means Tony was left standing by himself. Left alone to face the masses. Again.

Typical. Always so typical. Tony doesn't know why he bothers to hope anymore. It never does him any good. He is always let down. Out of all the things in life that can hurt you, hope is the most vicious thing of all. The sharpest knife. He has more – metaphorical – scars from hope than anything else. Hope that one day Howard will be proud of him. Hope that things will turn out alright. Hope that, this time, another person won't leave him. Like always. What a waste of time.

But Strange doesn't care about that – about Bruce's nervousness or self-loathing or anything. He just nods and motions. A blue ball of light appears. "Follow the sphere. It will lead you to a room where you can rest."

"Ah thanks," he says. He takes one last cautious look at Tony and then is gone.

Tony crosses his arms. "Alright then Dumbledore. What's so important that you had to send Bruce away?"

The other two share another look and _boy,_ but Tony is getting real sick of that real fast. He wants answers damn it. And nothing good ever comes from a look like that. Again, this is hardly reassuring.

"There is a weapon out there that can help defeat Thanos," Wong says.

"Great," Tony says with feeling. Finally some good news. "What is it?"

"It may be a little old fashion for your taste," Wong says instead.

Tony snorts, ever so slightly insulted. Obviously he doesn't know just how desperate Tony is feeling at this point. He may be a tech snob, but the chance to beat the nightmare in his head? Low tech is the least of his worries. "Not a problem. So?"

Wong opens a portal and motions for Tony to step through. "You must be the one to retrieve it."

Tony looks at it warily. Magic. Why is it always magic? "And why is that?" he asks. At least the location doesn't look terrible. It's pleasant enough. Which usually means that there is something extra wrong with it.

"Because you must be the one to wield it," Wong answers.

Wield it? He's right, that does sound low tech. _Very_ low tech. Then again, maybe not. One never knows. And beggars can't be choosers in any case. He takes a deep breath and steps through. Instantly the grass beneath his feet crunches. He can tell that, wherever he is, no one else has been here in a long time.

:::

"Are you sure about this?" Stephen asks, eyeing Stark doubtfully. It's not that he doubts Stark's courage, just... everything else about him.

"Of course I am," Wong says serenely, "Stark is the one."

:::

Tony looks around for a clue about what to do next. There is no one around. There is _nothing_ around. Nothing besides trees, grass and the lake in front of him. What is he supposed to be doing here? Shouldn't there be an instruction manual or something? Or at least make it more obvious, seeing as how he was given no helpful hints. That means it has to be obvious. Or is it only obvious if you have magic?

For lack of anything better to do, he walks towards the lake. This definitely hasn't been touched by man. The water is too pure for that. Not clogged up by pollution and garbage. He's never seen water this clear before. Kind of sad when you think about it.

Then he notices the boat, sitting half way in the water. Was that there a second ago? He swears it wasn't. It's not as if there is anything to hide it from view. On inspection it seems sturdy enough, without any holes in it. Made completely of wood, without any paint or varnish , you would think it would have started to rot by now. But it hasn't. Then again, there is no sign of how old it is either.

:::

"And if you're wrong? Stephen asks next, "What if Stark isn't the one you think he is? This fight is already going to be hard enough without him failing."

"I am not wrong," Wong says, crossing his arms as he watches, "Stark is the one. Have some faith now."

"Faith," Stephen snorts. The fate of the world – of the _universe_ – is in one person's hands and he says 'have faith'. Right. At least it could be worse. At least it is Stark and and not, say, Rogers. That would be a disaster.

:::

But of course the boat doesn't have a motor. Why would he expect one at this point? He wasn't, not really. But there aren't any oars either and no handy branch to use as one. Still, something is telling him to get in the boat. Maybe it's instinct. Maybe it's common sense. Maybe it's magic. Who knows at this point.

He pushes the boat so that it is fully in the water and hops in. His feet and jeans are now soaked, but oh well. Needs must. It is steadier than Tony would have thought as well. It barely rocks as he moves around in it. Aren't boats supposed to sway more? Not that he's complaining mind.

First step done. Now, next step, how to get the boat to move forward. Not with his hands, that's for sure. And no oars have magically appeared when he got in. Which means that is likely to be the exact answer here. Magic.

When in Rome and all that.

"Forward," he says, feeling like a complete idiot, "Please," he adds because Jarvis raised him right. Even if he tends to ignore those childhood lessons most of the time. Still, it's a magical boat – probably. Manners are a good thing here.

The boat moves forward.

:::

Stephen sighs, feeling more than a little annoyed. One would think he would be used to it by now. Conversations with Wong are never straight forward after all. But one would be wrong. Sorcerer Supreme he may be, but Wong still has a way of knowing things that he doesn't. It can be rather frustrating at times.

"I thought only Arthur could wield it? Next are you going to tell me that Stark _is_ Arthur?"

"Ah," Wong raises a finger, "Arthur yes." And then he smiles, "Or Arthur's heir."

:::

The boat moves forward at a steady pace, heading towards the middle of the lake. Tony looks around in curiosity. Not that there is much to see, But what he can see is beautiful. He isn't really what you would call a nature lover, but one would have to be dead not to find beauty here. There is just something about this place.

Something in the air. It grows stronger the farther out the boat moves. It is as if it is an invisible mist, swelling up to surround him. It is rushing so fast Tony is surprised that the sky is still clear. It reminds him of Thor's lightning dancing across his skin. It tingles, making his hair stand up.

Something else – no matter how clear the water is, he can't see the bottom. Now that could mean that the water is just too deep. Or it could mean something else. Something more. He gets the feeling Occam's razor isn't going to explain anything in this place. The simplest answer is not correct. Not unless you factor magic into the equation.

And he probably should at that. He got here through a magical portal that a wizard opened for him. Magic is likely the answer to everything right now. Everyone always assumes that he hates magic. They aren't wrong, but... But there was a time when they were. When that wasn't the case. Something he hasn't thought about in years. Decades really at this point.

But he is now. Because there is something eerily familiar about this. Like a dream only vaguely remembered on waking. It's not the landmarks or the situation because there is nothing much happening to compare it to. But the feeling keeps getting stronger. Growing as he comes closer to what feels like his goal. Even as e feels the – dare he call it – magic dancing along his skin, he remembers. He knows exactly what this reminds him of. Only that is impossible.

Right?

:::

" _Arthur's heir_?" Stephen sputters. Not exactly what one would call dignified, but that is hardly the problem right now. He has other things to worry about. Such as what Wong just said to him. "As in King Arthur? The Once and Future King. That Arthur?"

"Do you know any other famous Arthur that wielded an equally famous sword?"

He is still smiling far too smugly for Stephen's comfort. Just what gives him the right? And how does he know this anyways? "How can Stark be Arthur's heir? Not only has he been dead for centuries, the only child he ever fathered was Mordred. Who also died childless. He's not even English!"

"As the legends go, Arthur will return when he is needed most."

"To England," Stephen says, because yes, he knows that. He read the stories when he was a kid. King Arthur will return from Avalon to England when the time of need is the greatest. To save the country he once ruled. He knows all of that. He never thought it was real when he was younger, but still. "But there is nothing about an heir in those legends."

"Obviously you have been reading the wrong books." Wong continues to smile.

Like he said – frustrating.

:::

He can't possibly be on his way to meet the Lady of the Lake. That's just a story. And this is all wrong. Merlin guided Arthur to the lake. The Lady spoke to him and he could already see the sword and scabbard being held up. Then he rowed out and took them from the hand. That's it. That is how it goes.

And yes, while he can admit that maybe that's not _exactly_ how it had to have gone, you would think there would still be some truth to it. The story always changes with each retelling. He knows this. He's experienced this himself. No two stories are the same. It isn't impossible to think that after centuries, the story has changed some. But still...

Well he supposes that a wizard – or two – did guide him here. So there's that. But everything else? Nothing is the same. The only reason he is comparing the two events is because of the book Jarvis got him when he was sick in bed to read when he was four. So why is he convinced that this is the answer? Does his brain know something that Tony doesn't? That's not the way that works either. Isn't all of this supposed to be impossible?

Although, after this, he might have to give up that word from his vocabulary. Really, he probably should have done so a long time ago. With the life he leads anymore, anything should be possible. After all, people are convinced that he is a hero. You can't get much crazier than that.

'Inconceivable!'

'You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.'

He snorts at the slightly ill timed movie reference. He should be thinking about other things right now. Still, that doesn't make it any less true.

'Anything is possible for a Possible.'

Alright then, clearly he needs to lay off the Saturday morning cartoons. At least he knows exactly who to blame for this one. Barton and his cartoon obsession. And wow, does that come with a load of bittersweet memories. More bitter than sweet right now. He thought they'd had something, before the split. Sure he didn't think they were as close as say, him and Romanov, but he thought they were good. Boy was he wrong apparently.

Turns out he was wrong about a lot of things. But now is not the time to think about that. Now is the time to figure out how to save the world. Again.

:::

"So Excalibur is the key to all of this?" Stephen asks. In a way, it would make sense. Is there a more famous – and powerful – weapon out there than Excalibur? Discounting Mjolnir and the like of course. Thor doesn't count.

"Was Excalibur what made Arthur the Once and Future King?" Wong asks instead of giving him a straight answer. Of course.

"Yes," Stephen says steadily, but just the fact that Wong asked the question makes him doubt his answer. He's good at that.

"No." Wong shakes his head. "Excalibur was a powerful tool to be sure. It helped Arthur in his quest to unite the realm and bring peace to it. But in the end, the sword is just a symbol. What matters is the man wielding it."

:::

Tony is now in the center of the lake, but nothing is happening. The boat has stopped and the water is calm and still around him. Honestly, he has no idea what to do next. Say something? Don't? Wait? For all that he usually flies by the seat of his pants, he usually has a little more to work with than this. Hell, even with the whole Mandarin disaster, at least he had a _Walmart_. Now? He has nothing but his brain.

But since when has that been nothing? Never, that's when. He is Tony Stark. Nothing keeps him down. Not for long. He's too stubborn for that. Stark men may be made of iron, but Tony? Tony is diamond.

:::

"Now what?" Stephen asks impatiently. Nothing is happening. Does that mean Wong is wrong? Or does Stark have to do something first?

"Wait for it." Wong says.

:::

Just as he is about to feel like a twit, trying out magic words of all things, he feels another shift in the air. As if something just now noticed him and is focusing on him. Assessing him. He stays very, _very_ still, not wanting to mess this up. But, because he can never keep his mouth shut, he asks, "Pretty please may I have something to save the universe? With a cherry on top?"

He swears that he hears a snort of amusement at that. Well ok then. At least someone is entertained by all of this. Someone might as well be after all. He still doesn't know what he's doing. But when does he ever, really?

He is about to try again when there is a ripple in the water in front of him. Eyes glued to the movement, he freezes. If he was still before, he basically stops breathing now. Can it be? Another ripple and a hand raises from the lake. A fair skinned arm, covered in a white sleeve, holding a sword and scabbard. _Just like in the story_. True, it isn't nearly as fancy as it was described. It's almost plain in fact. Certainly his armour is flashier than this.

But really, that hardly matters right now. Not with the power he can practically feel radiating off of it. Reaching out, he half expects it to disappear when he touches it. Like an illusion. But it doesn't. Oddly enough, it feels warm in his hand. Once he has a good grip on it, the hand disappears back into the water. As if it was never there to begin with.

Cautiously, almost reverently, he pulls the sword out. It gleams in the sun.

 _Take Me Up._

 _Cast Me Away._

He grins, suddenly feeling a lot more confident. Excalibur. He is holding Excalibur in his hand right now. His four year old self would be thrilled. They say never bring a knife to a gunfight. Well now he is about to bring a sword to an alien fight. And he is going to love every second of it.

He whoops, unable to help it. Yeah, he's feeling good right now. "Let's go save the world," he says, grinning widely.

:::

"See," Wong says, "I told you he is the one."

Stephen rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he waves off. It could be worse, he reminds himself. It could be worse. Looking at Stark's grin, he wonders if Arthur ever lit up quite like that. If so, it is easy to see just why so many people loved him.


End file.
